Break the Sky
by MissMimsy
Summary: In their 7th year at Hogwarts, Gryffindors Alfred, Arthur, and Madeline are sure that they and their team will take the Quidditch cup this year. But when things start to go wrong, there might only be one chance left for them to save the day. USXUKXCanada
1. In Which Arthur Lays the Bricks

Hogwarts: 12:00 in the morning on Friday, November Twentieth

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><p>Sometimes Arthur Kirkland regretted accepting the position of Head Boy. Really, really, really regretted it. One of those times was now, when he'd just started his rounds, and he hadn't had a drink in a little over a month, and he'd left his portable wizarding radio back at the dorm, and the people he was having to reprimand happened to be members of his own house. And he was very, very, very tempted to accept their offer of a glass of firewhiskey. So it was with a heavy heart that he pulled out his wand, confiscated their alcohol and magicked it off to the contraband closet in the headmaster's room, and sent them back to bed amid much grumbling. As he turned around to catch the staircase down to the next floor he had to patrol, footsteps caught up with him and he was mildly dismayed to find the bane of his existence keeping in step. His best friend, Alfred F. Jones, had annoyed the ever-loving sanity out of Arthur since the day they'd met a little bit more than seven years ago. Though at first the puppy-like exchange student had brought out the absolute worst in Arthur's remarkably mature (read: senior citizen-esque) personality, it had become apparent to the general public of Hogwarts over the course of their first year together that Arthur cared deeply about Alfred's wellbeing and was actually rather sweet to him underneath his generally grumpy demeanor.<p>

"So, Artie, howsabout a game of chess when we get back?" the perpetually bouncy boy beside Arthur asked with a stupidly wide grin on his face. Arthur merely massaged the bridge of his nose in an attempt to control himself.

"Alfred, it's midnight, you're supposed to be in bed with the rest of the school, and I'm supposed to be on my solo rounds. Solo. Are you aware that solo means alone? And, therefore, solo rounds mean rounds that you do alone. Without other people. So no, I do not think that a round of chess would be an appropriate activity for when we return, especially given that the two of us are not going back to the same place." Arthur told him patiently, walking quicker in an attempt to show the other boy that he was not, in fact, wanted. "You are going back to the dorms right now, and I am going to finish my rounds and then return to the Head tower, on the other side of the school from you. There will be no meet up, no game of chess, no illicit activities, no adventures, and no more roughhousing. Instead, you will go back where you belong."

"Aw, Artie, that's pretty cold of you," whined Alfred, pouting down at the shorter boy who shook off the false emotion with a quirk of the (large) eyebrow. Arthur turned the corner with a huff, readjusting his shirt and doing a quick charm to discern whether there were any canoodling teenagers in the vicinity. Honestly, he'd learned early on in his years of being a Prefect that it just wasn't worth the saved energy to walk in on his peers in various states of undress. Unless they were two certain someones and there was a place for him in the middle, but that was a whole 'nother bucket of things Arthur didn't want to get into this late at night, especially since Alfred was still persisting in following him.

"Right, well, you've got about ten seconds to retreat around that corner and get your ass up to the dorms before I curse it off," and there was more pouting happening, but at least that blonde head of hair was facing away from him and obeying his commands. For once. With a heavy sigh, he turned another corner and cast another charm, resigning himself to another night of patrolling the corridors alone. He would have asked the Head Girl, Madeline Williams, to come along with him, but she had been utterly exhausted earlier by a harsh Quidditch practice in which that Arthur and Madeline's dolt of a lover, one aforementioned Alfred Jones, had misjudged a turn and collided straight into the poor girl, knocking her right off of her broom and through one of the hoops she'd been guarding. Luckily, the team captain Mathias had managed to catch her, but it had still been a nasty fall and an even nastier fright. When Arthur had slipped out the door, the blonde girl had been fast asleep on their common room couch in the Head's Tower, her magicked stuffed polar bear held tightly against her bruised chest. He'd be having a word with the team at tomorrow's practice about that.

He'd always been wary of Madeline playing Quidditch, especially since he'd seen firsthand every injury his older brothers had gotten while playing the sport. However, when the shy, quite girl with the curly blonde hair had tried out, something had changed right then and there on the field. She had become a vicious, rough, skilled player, twelve years old but still intimidating Arthur's seventh year brother in her one on one Keeper's tryout. And after his brother and the captain of the team, Scotty, had seen the way Madeline fiercely defended the hoops, there was no keeping her off the team. And with the way Alfred flew like he had wings, like the broom was nothing but an accessory to his true speed, there was not a chance he wouldn't be on there too. So Arthur had spent the last six years watching his two most beloved people in the world put themselves in crippling danger every weeknight and most Saturdays of the year.

It wasn't that he didn't like Quidditch: he did, he just wasn't very good at it. Books were more his thing. It was just that he'd never quite recovered full use of his heart after watching Alfred as he collided with the Slytherin keeper, Gilbert, straight into the side of the pitch, and fell twenty feet to the ground below. And he rather liked his two significant others in all one piece and wholly undamaged.

That was kind of an odd thing to say, come to think of it. His two significant others. But he was an odd boy and it was an odd situation and it had come about in an odd way. He'd met Alfred and Madeline on the first day of school, seven years and two months ago. Alfred had annoyed the ever-loving hell out of him, and was, unfortunately, in almost every single class with Arthur, besides sharing a dorm with him. Madeline, however, had been sweet and loving and had magicked Arthur's bookbag back together after Alfred's bumbling attempt at taking a chocolate milk stain out had ripped it to shreds. For some unknown reason, Alfred had attached himself to Arthur and Arthur's bookish ways, coaxing out the wild boy who had spent his summers running amuck about the woods and grasslands behind his family's large countryside home. The boy who had helped him prank their least favorite professor, and the boy who had tugged him behind the Herbology greenhouse number three to show him a fairy that had visited him at the owlery the other day. It was that side of Arthur that Alfred had brought out of its shell and displayed to the world.

Meanwhile, Madeline had been watching the two of them, joining them for lunches and hiding them behind curtains when they were on the run from a professor, fixing their torn clothes and helping Alfred with his Potions homework. And slowly, slowly, Arthur and Arthur began to fall in love with her. They had almost had a huge falling out in fifth year, when the both of them wanted to ask her to the winter ball, and neither of them wanted to concede to the other that it was really more fair if neither of them took her. Both of them wanted her, and both of them thought they deserved her, and neither of them really noticed that she was standing behind them until it was too late and they'd exposed themselves clearly for her to see.

"Perhaps you should both take me?" she suggested, her voice quiet and her books held tight against her voluminous red sweater clad chest. They had looked at each other, and then back at her, and had each held out a hand.

"Madeline Williams," Alfred began.

"Would you do the honor of accompanying us to the Winter Ball?" Arthur finished, and she'd took both their hands, and she'd never let go. Later that night, all three of them on a bench in the fairy maze, Madeline between them, Alfred had looked over and thought to himself that Arthur was really very beautiful in the blue, twinkling lights, and they kissed softly over Madeline's head, unaware of her smile beneath them until she tugged their ties apart and brought their arms around her so she could kiss the both of them and show them that this was how they were meant to be.

And that was how they had been ever since.

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><p>The beginning of a Harry Potter Universe Hetalia crossover fic.<p> 


	2. In Which the True Aim is Introduced

A/N: And the real plot actually begins this chapter, now that I've introduced the characters' situations. Any suggestions are welcome, as are criticisms.

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><p>"Argh!" Alfred yelled, smashing his fist against the girls' locker room door in anger. Berwald, a hulking fellow seventh year, caught his hand before he could do any more damage. "I can't believe they'd do that. <em>Again.<em>" He huffed, spinning away and ripping his wrist from Berwald's grip. Mathias grabbed his shoulders, shoving him back against the wall.

"Alfred, get a hold of yourself. Madam Pomfrey said that she should be right as rain tomorrow. It's just a sprained wrist." Alfred scowling, shoving Mathias off and crossing his arms.

"It's the fourth fucking time this week that they've done something like that, Mathias, not counting the time that they cast a stinging hex on me just as I was turning into Madeline. They 'accidentally' tripped her in Potions and caused her a bloody knee. They just 'happened' to hit her with a shrub trimming hex in Herbology. It was totally 'by chance' that Eduard dropped his solid gold goblet on her head while she was looking under the desk for a pencil during Transfiguration the other day. And let's not forget that they obviously 'didn't mean' to shove her down four flights of stairs this afternoon on her way to practice. Yeah, that's all blooming bad luck, all right." He snapped at the captain. "Something's going on, and I don't think it's just about her. It's about all of us." He picked up his broom, slamming his locker shut and slinging his bag over his shoulder. "I'm just saying, we've got to watch ourselves now. It's not a coincidence that all of them are on the same damn team that we're neck in neck with for house points and Quidditch stats. So watch your backs, and especially watch Maddie's. They obviously know she's the lynchpin of this team." Mathias nodded his assent, drawing murmurs of agreement from the rest of the team.

"Alright, everyone, that's a deal then. We don't let our guard down, and Maddie's got someone with her at all times, okay?" With the routine team fist bump (Alfred's contribution to the team rituals), they left the locker rooms in pairs and trios, walking back up to the castle. Alfred walked alone, steps heavy and angry. He didn't bother dropping off his stuff in the Gryffindor tower, instead bypassing it to step straight onto the staircase that took him to the top of the Head Tower, where Arthur and Madeline's common room was located. Muttering the password (scones, as per Arthur's choice), he hopped through the portrait hole and dumped his bags down onto the rug in the entry hallway. The common room was empty, the fire flickering low, and Madeline's bear Kumajirou sat blinking steadily in front of it.

"Where're Artie and Maddie?" He asked it, crouching down.

"Who?" it said, pointing to Arthur's room.

"Thanks, little buddy," he said, getting up and hopping the couch to lean against the door handle, pushing it slowly and quietly open. Madeline was sleeping, her wrist bandaged heavily and held carefully between both of Arthur's slender hands. Those green eyes looked up at Alfred's uncharacteristically silent entrance, beckoning him over to the bed.

"Heya," he whispered into Arthur's hair, giving his forehead a kiss and sitting on the bed next to their prone figures.

"She just fell asleep a few minutes ago," he murmured back, tugging at Alfred's ratty sweatshirt in an attempt to force him to lie down beside him. Alfred kicked off his boots and shucked his sweatshirt, tiptoeing around to the other side of the bed so he and Arthur could sandwich Maddie in a defensive cocoon. Tanned, muscular arms twined with pale, sweater clad limbs to wrap their precious girl in fierce protection. A soft kiss later, and the two boys were drifting off into an uneasy sleep.

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><p>Arthur dreamed of losing. He dreamt as she fell. He dreamed of watching from the stands, unable to move, as his girl fell from a great height, tumbling head over heel, her golden hair shining in the darkness of the pitch. He saw the team, he saw them try to catch her, brooms speeding and moving, but there was no hope. He saw her hit the ground with a porcelain crash, her body a rag doll in the grass. He woke up with tears on his cheeks.<p>

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><p>Alfred dreamed of loving. He dreamt pale skin and rose skin and gold skin all tangled up together in the sheets of red. He dreamt clothes sliding off and fingers trailing, of red kiss marks on collarbones and skin slipping smooth as limbs locked and the bed shook. He dreamt of their red cheeks and blue-green-purple eyes, or wrapping his arms around the others' slender bodies and cushioning heads on his muscle bound chest. He dreamt of light exploding and sensation blurring and the long slow descent back into steady breath and tired bodies. He woke up with rubbing thighs and tight jeans.<p>

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><p>Madeline dreamed of lions. She felt their hungry golden eyes all around her, watching her walk down the corridors of her dreams. She dreamed of their claws on her back and their teeth at her neck. She dreamt their hot breath on her face, their smirking expressions in her view, and she shivered and screamed for help. She woke up with arms all around her and lions nowhere in sight, but the terror still caught in her chest.<p>

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><p>And it was only one in the morning, but the three were awake. Arthur clung tight, reassuring himself that his golden girl was still there. Maddie lay still, holding their arms to her abdomen and stealing their warmth. Alfred shifted uncomfortably, his head kind of spinning and his stomach kind of tense and hot. When Arthur's hand brushed his hip, seeking to pull them closer together, he groaned, trying to muffle it in the pillow too late.<p>

"Alfie?" Madeline asked, turning to face him. "Are you alright?" He took a deep breath, burying his face in her neck and bucking his hips against her thigh.

"God, you smell so good," he murmured, arms wrapping tight around his lovers. "I can't even help myself." Arthur smirked on the other side of Maddie, grateful for the distraction from his pessimistic dreams. He pressed close against the girl's side, pushing the three bodies together and sliding a knee through her thighs to put pressure on Alfred's aching groin. Madeline gasped into Alfred's hair, Arthur's knee brushing and pushing against her in a way that caught spindly nerve heat in her stomach too.

"Arthur," she breathed, her head falling back, hair splayed golden thread nimbus across the pillow. Alfred shoved, drove her flat on her back beneath him, catching bitten red lips with his own and tasting her deep while Arthur watched and rubbed his need on their side. Thin fingers snaked between the kissing bodies, catching on buttons and zippers, tugging fabric away from skin. He pulled himself up, insinuated himself behind her, lay her back flush against his chest and bit little hot wet kisses on her shoulder. She gasped and bucked and drew away for air, panting and slumped against him. Alfred grinned, his cheeks hot and eyes glazed and shirt half undone, coming closer to grasp Arthur's chin and slip his tongue along eager lips.

"Mmmm, Artie, you're such an instigator," he whispered along the other boy's jaw, sucking his earlobe into the heat of his mouth. Arthur just whined and pulled him closer, and they let themselves blur into a deep, hot, sticky honey glory that lasted them the night.

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><p>Madeline shivered, dragging her scarf close and hurrying along to the greenhouses. It was her first class of the day, Advanced NEWT Herbology, and she was bemoaning the lack of heat in Greenhouse Five, where today's lesson was held. She had just barely managed to escape her teammates to get away to this class, the sheer necessity of time and space allowing her to go down to the greenhouses alone. They'd been following her nonstop since her last "accident", and it was only the fact that Sadiq couldn't afford any more tardies in Care of Magical Creatures that had let her escape escort. Honestly, these shift things were getting ridiculous. She was Head Girl, and certainly she should be able to take care of herself. And honesty, Madeline didn't find it that big of a deal that she was being bullied. She was the best Keeper at school, she was the Head Girl, she was the one person that Peeves didn't terrorize, and she was dating the two most eligible young golden boys in the entire seven grades. These were all reasons enough, she thought, given that she'd been harassed for less before. And the injuries weren't all that bad, though the shrub trimming hex had made horribly odd designs in her body hair, as it was meant for topiaries. She was just glad that it hadn't been aimed at her head. Alfred and Arthur had had a note of desperation around them that night, pressing her closer and holding her tighter than usual, and while she didn't mind it in the least, it had let her know that they were really very worried about her.<p>

So far, there had been four days without incident. And here she was, Wednesday morning, nerves on end and wand in her jacket pocket, feeling the paranoia of her teammates sink into her. Every night at practice, Arthur came to watch them, guarding the stands in order to make sure no more Stinging hexes were cast at unsuspecting players. It was actually kind of nice for him to be there to shout suggestions about their formations out from below in the stands. Not paying attention to where she was walking, too busy thinking of the past few days, Madeline slipped and slid and twisted her ankle on a wet patch of stubbly grass.

"A-ah, ow," she moaned, sitting up and pulling her jeans aside to assess the damage. It didn't look too bad, something a quick Inflammation charm could fix. She hardly noticed the person coming up beside her before their shadow blocked the weak sunlight from her face.

"Do you need some help?" A strangely accented Slavic voice asked, a pale white hand outstretched towards her. She looked up into purple-red eyes and a long pastel pink scarf wrapped around a thick neck. Slowly, she took the proffered hand, standing up carefully and righting herself.

"Thank you," she said, smiling up at the strange boy. "You're Ivan, right? Ivan Braginski? I'm Maddie." The boy laughed, a strange quiet giggle, and grinned childishly down at her.

"Oh, I know who you are, Madeline Williams. You are the Keeper that always manages to thwart my boyfriend's teammates from scoring. You are a source of great frustration for him, da?"

"Who's your boyfriend?" she asked, confused and slightly unnerved.

"Ah, you know him, Gilbert," he said, nodding his head. "He seems to have a strange fascination with you, little Madeline. I find it rather… unhealthy." She shivered at the menacing undertones of his voice, drawing her book bag closer and backing away.

"R-right. Well, thank you for helping me up, Ivan, but I really must be going, my class starts soon and I can't be late…" She trailed off, turning quickly to flee towards the large glass building, away from those dead purple eyes.

"I'll be seeing you, comrade," the large boy called, waving to her as she retreated hastily.

But she just couldn't seem to shake the shivers Ivan's eyes caused.

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><p>Silver and green wrapped wood hit the wall, red eyes dark and angry. Gilbert flopped back onto the bed, frustrated, his translucent shaggy hair silver snow against the dark pillowcase.<p>

"Why is she so obtuse?" He muttered, rubbing his eyes furiously with clenched hands. A large, thick hand petted his head, comforting him with soft movements.

"She'll get it soon," Ivan said soothingly. "I make sure of it, da? Just for my Gilbert." Gilbert rolled over, burying his face in the other boy's lap and twining their fingers together.

"Thank you, Vanya," he murmured into the soft fabric of the boy's sweater. Soon, Ivan would make her understand. Soon, Madeline would be theirs.

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><p>And so we meet our "villains".<p> 


End file.
